Playthings
by Dede42
Summary: The Winchesters head to a inn that is set to be torn down and investigate several incidents that may be caused by a vengeful spirit while trying to figure out why fellow special child, Ava, has been taken by demons. Will the Winchesters save the day or will them, the inn's owner, and the owner's daughter become victims of the spirit, too?
1. Chapter 1: MISSING

Supernatural: Playthings

A/N: Hello, I am back again with a whole new story for you all. So, there will be some hints about what ol' Yellow-eyes is up to, how it involves Sam and the other special children, and you'll be seeing the Idris twins again.

R&R everyone!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from _Supernatural_ or _Criminal Minds_ ; I just own the characters that I happen to create.

* * *

 **CHAPTER ONE: MISSING**

" _And as the king passed by, he cried unto the king: and he said, Thy servant went out into the midst of the battle; and, behold, a man turned aside, and brought a man unto me, and said, Keep this man: if by any means he be missing, then shall thy life be for his life, or else thou shalt pay a talent of silver_ _."_

 _1 Kings 20:39_

"I've found the perfect place for the competition."

"Excellent, you know what to do now."

"Yes, father."

* * *

Peoria, Illinois…

Brady Garrett yawned as he got out of his car and headed for the front door of the house he lived in with Ava, who he knew would be home already and have dinner ready to eat; he didn't like working so late at his job, but he knew they needed the extra hours and the extra money for their wedding, which they'd already set back once after the death of Scott Carey last month, and their respective parents were getting edgy.

Brady was about to put his key into the lock, when he noticed that the welcome mat was in the nearest bush and that the Devil's Trap underneath it was now a smear with a long jagged crack through the center; suddenly fearing the worse, he gingerly poked at the door and it swung open slightly.

' _Oh god.'_ Swallowing hard, he gingerly shoved the door opened and entered the dark house; he first peered into the kitchen and saw that a cooling dinner was on the kitchen table, he then checked the other rooms, including the salt that they'd taken to putting on the windowsills every day and night, and found that they were intact…at least until he reached the bedroom.

"Oh no-"

The room had been _torn_ apart! The bed had been pulled apart, the closest had been emptied, the Chester drawer was toppled, the drawers scattered about along with their contents, the lamps were broken, and one of the windows was wide open, the screen missing; gingerly making his way across the wrecked room, Brady examined the sill and found that the salt line was gone and there was an yellow powdery substance on it instead.

Not sure if it was safe to touch, he bent down and took a quick sniff, gagging when the stench of rotten eggs entered his nose, and quickly backed away, realizing what had happen: sulfur, which meant _demons!_

Breathing hard, he took another quick look around the room and discovered that Ava's winter clothes were missing; this was _way_ over his head and there was only one thing that he could do right now, and that was call for help.

Brady quickly pulled out his cell-phone and speed-dialed the number to the local field office. "Hello? Hi, my name is Brady Garrett and I need to be connected to Agent Aaron Hotchner right away! My fiancée has been kidnapped and I need his help _right now_!"

* * *

Provo, Utah…

"You know, you guys can stay as long as you need to," Elvis told the Winchesters as they packed up the Impala; after helping free Kat from the demon, they'd stayed with the Indris family for another four weeks, mainly so that Hannah could continue training Sam in controlling his empathic ability and had helped with the Halloween fun, but Dean wasn't the type that liked to stay in one place for too long, even with a steady job at the movie theater, and he was starting to getting antsy.

"Yeah, but we really need to get back on the road," said Dean, "do our job as hunters and hopefully find more of the other special children so that we can warn them about Azazel's plans…what we know of those plans, that is."

Elvis chuckled. "I understand, Dean," he agreed. "Just so you know, if you guys are passing through and you need a place to crash, you have a home here with us."

"Thanks, Elvis, that means a lot to us," Sam said, smiling and looking a whole lot better than he had when they had first arrived in the city, even Dean and Liz had noticed the improvement on his eating and sleeping habits.

Just then his cell-phone rang and he answered it. "Hello? Brady, hey – whoa! Whoa, slow down, man, and say that again…you're _certain_ that a demon has taken Ava?"

Both Dean and Liz froze when they heard that and looked at Sam, who held up his hand as he continued listening to Brady, who was quickly describing what he'd found and that Ava was _nowhere_ in sight.

"Okay, okay, we'll get there as soon as we can," Sam promised and clicked his phone shut, a stunned expression on his face. "Ava's missing, along with some of her winter clothes, and Brady found sulfur in their bedroom, which has been wrecked."

Now Dean and Liz were _really_ worried. "A demon? But isn't that going against the promise that Azazel made to dad?"

Sam nodded, frowning. "Yeah, it is." He then turned to Elvis, who was also looking worried. "I'm sorry, but we've got to go and help a friend; let both Hannah and Ricky know that we said goodbye."

Elvis nodded. "I will, now get going."

And the Winchesters piled into their car, driving off to figure out what was going on, and _why_ a demon had taken one of the special children.

* * *

"Well, you're right in suspecting demons, Brady," Dean remarked, examining the sulfur on the windowsill; they'd driven all through the day and through the night in order to get to the house, and by the time they'd gotten there, both the police and the FBI had gathered forensic evidence and were already sending out a missing person's report over the news channels for a nation-wide search since it'd been discovered that Ava hadn't been the only one taken.

"Garcia discovered that _at least_ four other people were taken around the same time," Morgan told them; Derek had volunteered to check on things when Hotch told him the news, and Penelope had immediately began a search for strange disappearances involving sulfur. "Two of them were at home like Ava, one was in a restroom where others were killed, and the fourth was in her car."

"But _why_ taken them?" Sam wondered. "Why now?"

Morgan shrugged. "Don't know, Sam, but that yellow-eyed bastard must have a reason to go back on his promise."

"Here's another question," said Liz. " _Why_ take Ava's winter clothes at the same time?"

"Maybe she's been taken somewhere cold, and the other four are going to the same place," Dean suggested.

"I'll have Garcia start a search in the most likely places within the states," Morgan said, puling out his cell-phone. "'Cause I doubt that Azazel will take them out of the country."

Sam went over to where Brady was sitting on the repaired bed, looking like he hadn't gotten any sleep in the past 24 hours. "Brady, I promise you that we'll do _everything_ that we can to find Ava and bring her home safely."

Brady nodded wearily. "I know you will, Sam, and if you kill the demons involved in the process, it'll make this even better."

Sam chuckled. "I'll see what I can do."

After spending another hour looking for any other clues that might've been overlooked, Morgan headed back to update the rest of the BAU team, and the Winchesters piled back into their car to search for Ava on their own and call on both Bobby and Ellen for research help.

* * *

Cornwall, Connecticut

Pierpont Inn…

A slow wind blew through the night, and it made an ancient sign that read "Pierpont Inn, Est. 1930" sway and creak. Behind the sign was a beautiful mansion that was now a hotel and a large white van pulled up in front of it.

A large, friendly man followed a young woman, Susan, down the dim hallway inside and up a set of stairs.

"Most of the stuff is up here," she told him, leading the way.

"I still can't believe you're closing this house," the man remarked sadly as he looked around. "You know my parents got engaged here? My grandparents, too."

Susan nodded. "Yeah, a lot of people did." And they reached the top of the stairs. "The boxes are at the end of the hall. Need any help?"

The man shook his head. "Oh, no ma'am, I've got it." And continued down the hallway, walking past two little girls, Tyler and Maggie, who were dressed in old-fashioned schoolgirl outfits, and were sitting in the railing that overlooked the entryway.

"He's gonna take our toys?" Tyler asked, clearly upset.

"Only the ones you don't play with anymore," Susan told them as she started back down the stairs. "It's not like you don't have enough already."

Maggie frowned, not liking it either. "Son of a bitch," she said quietly.

"Son of a bitch," Tyler echoed.

Susan frowned up at Tyler. "Watch your mouth!"

"Maggie said it first!" Tyler protested.

Susan gave a long-suffering sigh. "Watch your mouth too, Maggie." And continued down the stairs. _'_ What _am I going to do with those two?'_

* * *

Having nothing better to do, Tyler went into a large room filled with, rather creepy-looking dolls and a large dollhouse – which was an _exact_ replica of the hotel. Picking up a bit, she began placing dolls into their beds and chairs.

"Good night, Tabitha."

Looking into one of the rooms, she was confused, when a doll wasn't where she had just placed it; she searched the other rooms before leaning over and found it lying on the floor of the dollhouse, body facedown but head twisted up. Now _really_ confused, she picked it up slowly. How did that happen? Just then she heard her mother scream.

* * *

Susan was in the front foyer and was crying into the phone. "Oh god. Yes, yes, are you there? Oh, you have to send someone right now, right now!" she began babbling. "I don't know, he-"

On the floor at her feet was the man; he was lying in a pool of blood and was contorted like the doll, also there were scattered boxes of toys lying around him. At that moment, Tyler came to the railing, peering over it with wide eyes; Susan saw her and gasped.

"Tyler, don't look! Don't look!"

She continued babbling into the phone while Tyler looked down calmly, almost as if she was in a trance; the man's eyes were staring, his hands were twitching, and his mouth was still pulsing in a horrifying gape.

* * *

A/N: Yeek! "Hides herself behind the couch" R&R everyone!


	2. Chapter 2: A HAUNTED INN?

Supernatural: Playthings

A/N: Hello, I am back again and I really don't have much to say since I'm a bit under the weather this week, so on with the story.

Read, review, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from _Supernatural_ or _Criminal Minds_ ; I just own the characters that I happen to create.

* * *

 **CHAPTER TWO: A HAUNTED INN?**

" _And_ _it came to pass by the way in the inn, that the Lord met him, and sought to kill him_ _."_

 _Exodus 4:24_

Three weeks later

Peoria, Illinois…

Blues music was playing on the radio and the walls were covered in maps, hand-written notes, and a MISSING poster showing Ava's face.

Sam was alone in the room and was on the phone. "Yeah. Okay," he said as both Dean and Liz entered the room with groceries and a tray of coffee. "Thanks, Ellen."

"What'd she have to say?" Dean asked.

"Oh, she's got nothing," Sam told him, sighing. "Me, I've been checking every database I can think of - federal, state, and local. No one's heard anything about Ava, she just…into thin air, you know? Even Garcia can't find anything…only that the other four people were _definitely_ part of the non-nursery fire pattern."

"Huh." Dean could understand that connection and he handed over one of the three cups of coffee Liz was carrying to Sam.

"What about you two?" Sam asked, accepting the coffee.

"No, same as before," Dean responded, shaking his head as he took his jacket off while Liz put the remaining coffees down on one of the nightstands so she could take off her own jacket. "Sorry, man."

"Same here," Liz agreed.

Sam decided to change the subject as he sipped his coffee. "Ellen did have one thing."

Both Dean and Liz looked at him inquiringly. "Hmm?"

"A hotel in Cornwall, Connecticut, two freak accidents in the past three weeks," Sam responded.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Yeah? What's that have to do with Ava?"

"It's a job," Sam explained. "I mean, a lady drowned in the bathtub; then a few days ago a guy falls down the stairs, head turns a complete one-eighty." And Liz winced. "Which isn't exactly normal, you know? Look, I don't know, Dean, Liz, it might be nothing, but I told Ellen we'd think about checking it out."

"You did?" Dean asked, surprised.

Sam nodded. "Yeah. You seem surprised."

Dean shrugged. "Well yeah, it's just, you know…not the patented Sam Winchester way, is it?" and winced when Liz elbowed him before sitting down on one of the beds with her coffee.

"Behave, Dean."

"What is that?" Sam asked with a mildly challenging tone.

Dean shrugged as he took his coffee and sat down on the same bed. "I just figured after Ava there'd be, uh, you know, more angst and droopy music and staring out the rainy windows, and-" he paused when Sam gave him a look and noted that Liz was getting ready to swat him "yeah, I'll shut up now."

Sam sighed as he moved to the other bed, since he knew what Dean meant. "Look. I'm the one who promised that she would be safe from Azazel," he explained. "Now her fiancée's freaking out and some demon has taken her off to God knows where, along with four others. You know? But we've been looking for three weeks now, and we've got nothing. So I'm not giving up on her, but I'm not going to let other people die either. We've got to save as many people as we can."

"Wow. That attitude is just _way_ too healthy for me, and I'm officially uncomfortable now," Dean groaned. "Thank you." This made Liz giggle and Sam ducked his head and laughed. "All right, call Ellen. Tell her we'll take it. Oh, did you ask her how Jo is?"

"Yeah, apparently Jo's still hunting, and has asked Ellen to help on a couple, which is why she isn't throwing a fit this time."

* * *

The next day, the Winchesters parked in front of the inn, and Dean got out of the driver's side with Liz, who was impressed by the place.

"This place is beautiful."

Dean grinned. "Dude, this is sweet. I never get to work jobs like this."

"Like what?" Sam asked as they got their bags out of the trunk and headed for the front door.

"Old school haunted houses, you know? Fog, and secret passageways, sissy British accents," Dean joked. "Might even run into Fred and Daphne while we're inside." He closed his eyes briefly. "Mmm. Daphne. Love her."

Liz rolled her eyes. "Dean, that's a cartoon show."

As they went up the steps, Sam noticed an urn on the side of the porch and inspected it more closely, having noticed something. "I'm not so sure haunted's the problem."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked.

Sam tilted the urn to show them. "You see this pattern here?" he tapped a five-point symbol engraved in the urn. "That's a quincunx, that's a five-spot."

Both Dean and Liz frowned. "Five-spot."

Sam nodded. "Yeah."

"That's used for hoodoo spellwork, isn't it?" Liz asked.

"Right, yeah," Sam confirmed. "You fill this thing with bloodweed and you've got a powerful charm to ward off enemies."

"Yeah, except I don't see any bloodweed," Dean remarked. "Don't you think this place is a little too, uh, whitemeat for hoodoo?"

Sam shrugged. "Maybe."

* * *

They entered the inn and looked around at the quiet interior; a moment later, Susan entered briskly.

"May I help you?"

Dean nodded and he went to the front desk. "Hi, yeah, I'd like a room for a couple of nights."

As both Sam and Liz moved toward the desk, too, Tyler darted in front of their legs, chased by Maggie, who ran behind him, and both girls were laughing and giggling.

"Hey!" Susan shouted at them and then turned to Sam and Liz. "Sorry about that."

"No problem," Sam said, chuckling and Liz nodded.

"It's all right."

Susan smiled and took the card that Dean handed her. "Well, congratulations, you could be some of our final guests."

Dean blinked. "Well. Sounds vaguely ominous."

"No, I'm sorry, I mean we're closing at the end of the month," Susan explained and then appraised them. "Well, let me guess. You guys are here antiquing?"

Dean shared a "why not?" look with Sam and Liz. "How'd you know?"

Susan shrugged. "Oh, you just look the type." And now Dean was vaguely uncomfortable. "So, uh, one king-sized bed? And one queens-sized bed?"

"What?" Sam yelped and realized what she meant. "No, uh, no, we're, we're…two singles, we're just brothers, and she's our sister." And Liz fought down a laugh…here they go again with the whole gay thing bit.

Susan flushed. "Oh. Oh, I'm so sorry."

Dean swallowed, wondering why this kept happening to them, even with Liz around. "What'd you mean that we look the type?"

"You know, speaking of antiques, you have a really, really interesting urn on the front porch. Where did you get that?" Sam asked, deciding to save some face.

Susan shrugged, returning the card. "Oh, I have no idea, it's been there forever." And then she handed Dean a key. "Here you go, Mr. Mahagov."

Dean took both items. "Thanks."

Susan dinged the bell. "You'll be staying in room 237. Sherwin, could you show these gentlemen and this lady to their rooms?" she requested, and Dean turned to see an old, balding man in a black blazer shuffling up behind him.

"Let me guess," Sherwin said upon seeing them. "Antiquers?"

* * *

After telling Sherwin that Sam and Dean weren't gay, making Liz resist the impulse to laugh, the old man was now dragging Dean's clunking duffel bag behind him, up the steps, as the Winchesters followed.

"I could give you a hand with that bag," Dean offered.

Sherwin shook his head. "I got it."

Dean didn't look convince. "Okay."

"So the hotel's closing up, huh?" Sam asked.

Sherwin nodded. "Yep. Miss Susan tried to make a go of it, but the guests just don't come like they used to. Still, it's a damn shame."

"Oh yeah?" Liz asked.

"It may not look it anymore, but this place was a palace," Sherwin explained. "Two different vice presidents laid their heads on our pillows. My parents worked here, I practically grew up here. Gonna miss it. Here's your room." He slipped the key in the lock and opened the door, handing the key to Sam, who took it, as he and Liz brushed past. Dean entered, turned to shut the door, and Sherwin was standing there, hand extended expectantly. "You're not gonna cheap on me, are you, boy?"

Dean was annoyed as he pulled out his wallet.

* * *

A while later, Sam was sitting, sifting through papers, Liz was sitting on one of the beds, and Dean was pacing; he chuckled as he approached what appeared to be an antique wedding dress displayed on a wall like a ghost.

"What the-?"

"What?" Sam asked, looking over.

"That's normal," Dean joked, nodding to the dress and then turned away. "Why the hell would anyone stay here? I'm amazed they kept in business this long."

"I'm sure it was more popular when it first open it doors," Liz suggested. "I mean…this place is _filled_ with history."

Sam decided to focus on the case. "All right. Victim number one: Joan Edison, forty-three years old, a realtor handling the sale of the hotel; and victim number two was Larry Williams, moving some stuff out to Goodwill."

Dean grimaced. "Well, there's a connection, they're both tied up in shutting the place down." and went to sit down next to Liz, and they both tensed when the bed sagged slightly under their combined weight.

Sam shrugged. "Yeah. Maybe somebody here doesn't want to leave, and they're using hoodoo to fight back."

"Who do you think our witch doctor is, that Susan lady?" Dean asked.

Sam shook his head. "No, doesn't seem likely. I mean…she is the one selling."

Dean thought about it. "So what then, Sherwin?"

"I don't know," Sam admitted.

Dean sighed, already foreseeing that this was going to be a tough case. "Of course, the most troubling question is why do these people assume we're gay?" and Liz laughed.

"Well, you are kinda butch," Sam teased. "Probably think you're overcompensating."

Dean rolled his eyes, forcing a laugh. "Right."

* * *

That night, the Winchesters poked around the hallways, Sam spotted another urn and picked it up. It too, had a quincunx inscribed. "Hey. Look at that. More hoodoo." And he put the urn back down.

They approached a door marked "PRIVATE" and Dean knocked; a moment later, Susan opened the door. "Hi there."

"Hi. Everything okay with your room?" Susan asked.

Liz fought back a laugh as Dean and Sam began talking over each other. "Yeah, yeah, everything's great."

Susan smiled. "Well, I was, I was just in the middle of packing."

"Hey!" Dean looked past her and noticed the dolls on the shelves. "Are those antique dolls?" and he nudged Sam. "Because this one, this one here, he's got a major doll collection back home. Dontcha? Huh?"

Sam shot Dean a look while Liz elbowed their brother.

"Leave Sam alone, Dean," she said in a scolding manner, and then turned to Susan. "Actually, _I'm_ the one who has a collection back home, and those are _beautiful_ dolls."

"Big time," Dean agreed, after shooting his twin a look. "You think she could come…or we could come in and take a look?"

Susan didn't look sure. "I don't know-"

"Please?" Dean pleaded, deciding to tease Liz instead of Sam, partly to get back at her for his sore ribs. "I mean, she _loves_ them. Liz's not gonna tell you this, but she's, she's _always_ dressing 'em up in these little outfits and, um, you'd make her day. You - she would, huh? Huh?"

Liz sighed, wishing that she hadn't said anything now. "It's true."

"Okay," Susan agreed. "Come on in."

"All right. All right!" Dean slapped both Liz and Sam on the backs and followed them in, while his siblings shot him a death glare each. "Wow. This is a _lot_ of dolls. I mean, they're nice, you know. Not super creepy at all." And he was _almost_ certain that they were following him with their eyes.

"Yeah, I suppose they are a little creepy," Susan agreed. "But they've been in the family forever. A lot of sentimental value."

Both Sam and Liz noticed the massive dollhouse and went over to examine it, both impressed and mildly disturbed by the resemblance to the inn. "What is this? The hotel?"

Susan nodded. "Yeah, that's right. Exact replica, custom built."

While Liz examined the exterior, Sam examined the interior when he noticed something; he leaned down and picked up the broken doll, frowning.

"His head got twisted around," he remarked, holding up the doll. "What happened to it?"

Susan shrugged; it'd been a while since she'd spent _any_ time around the dollhouse. "Tyler, probably."

And on cue, Tyler ran in. "Mommy! Maggie's being mean," she complained, her sister was nowhere in sight.

"Tyler, tell her I said to be nice, okay?" Susan suggested with a mother's patience.

Sam, still holding the doll, moved from behind the dollhouse. "Hey Tyler. I see you broke your doll. You want me to fix it?" he offered.

"I didn't break it," Tyler told him, unconcerned by the condition of the doll. "I found it like that."

"Oh. Well, uh, maybe Maggie did it," Liz suggested.

Tyler shook her head. "No, neither of us did it. Grandma would get mad if we broke 'em."

"Tyler, she wouldn't get mad," Susan tsked.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Grandma?"

"Grandma Rose, these were all her toys," Tyler answered.

Dean gave both Liz and Sam a knowing look, getting an idea. "Oh. Really. Where's Grandma Rose now?"

"Up in her room," Tyler responded.

"You know, I'd, I'd really love to talk to Rose about her incredible doll-" Liz began, getting Dean's hint.

"No," Susan said suddenly, surprising them. "I mean…I'm afraid that's impossible. My mother's been very sick and she's not taking any visitors."

* * *

After talking with both Susan and Tyler a bit more, the Winchesters exited the room, and were talking in hushed voices.

"Well, what do you think?" Dean asked. "Dolls, hoodoo, mysterious shut-in grandma?"

Sam shrugged. "Well, dolls are used in all kinds of voodoo and hoodoo, like curses, and binding spells, and-"

"Yeah, maybe we've found our witch doctor," Dean cut in. "All right, we'll see what we can go dig up on Granny, you go get online, check old obits, freak accidents, that sort of thing, see if she's whacked anybody before."

Sam nodded as he turned to the door to their room. "Right."

"Don't go surfing porn," Dean teased, "that's not the kind of whacking I mean." And winced when Liz swatted the back of his head.

"Dean, grow up."

Sam rolled his eyes and turned back to the room as his bickering siblings left.

* * *

The next day, Susan was signing a wordy legal document with the word "AGREEMENT" at the top, and a weak-chinned lawyer was standing nearby.

"I've been meaning to ask," Susan said, setting aside her pen and handed the document to the lawyer. "What sort of renovations are you planning?"

"They never told you?" the lawyer asked, surprised by the question.

Susan frowned. "Told me what?"

The lawyer became nervous and slightly twitchy. "Uh, Ms. Thompson we plan on demolishing the hotel."

Susan was floored by this news, concerning just how old and famous the inn was. "Oh. I see. Excuse me."

* * *

Meanwhile, Tyler was humming to herself as she played a tea party with several dolls, and Maggie was _nowhere_ in sight…again.

In an upper room of the dollhouse, a dark-suited figure sat at the edge of a bed.

* * *

Upstairs, in the parallel room of the real hotel, the lawyer sat at the edge of his bed.

* * *

The door behind doll-lawyer creaked open.

* * *

The door behind the lawyer creaked open as he fiddled with his collar.

* * *

Tyler was still humming and pouring tea when she heard a creak and went over to the dollhouse. Peering in, she saw that the doll-lawyer was hanging by the neck from the ceiling fan.

* * *

Upstairs, the lawyer was hanging from the neck, which had an electrical cord tied around it, from the ceiling fan, twitching.

* * *

A/N: And other victim is claimed. MWAHAHAHAHA! R&R everyone!


	3. Chapter 3: DRINKING AND HANGOVERS

Supernatural: Playthings

A/N: Hello, folks! So, I've been through a bit of stress this week since two members of my family are having surgeries, and so if I sound a bit frazzled, that's why.

Read, review, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from _Supernatural_ or _Criminal Minds_ ; I just own the characters that I happen to create.

* * *

 **CHAPTER THREE: DRINKING AND HANGOVERS**

" _He shall separate_ _himself_ _from wine and strong drink, and shall drink no vinegar of wine, or vinegar of strong drink, neither shall he drink any liquor of grapes, nor eat moist grapes, or dried_ _."_

 _Numbers 6:3_

That night, Sam stared through a lace-curtained window, watching the coroner cart away the lawyer's body.

* * *

Both Dean and Liz were outside, watching, and meet Susan as she came back towards the inn.

"What happened?" Dean asked.

Susan shrugged, doing her best to not have an emotional breakdown. "Oh, the maid went in to turn down the sheets and he was just…hanging there."

"That's awful," Liz gasped. "He was a guest?"

"He worked for the company that bought the place," Susan explained sadly.

Dean nodded. "Hmm."

Susan sighed. "I don't understand."

"What?" Dean asked.

"Had a lot of bad luck around here," Susan told them. "Look, if you'd like to check out I'll give you a full refund."

Dean shook his head firmly. "No thanks. I don't scare that easy."

* * *

Meanwhile, Sam was sitting alone in the dark, framed by the half-open door with the key askew in the lock; Dean grabbed the key as he and Liz entered and shut the door behind them, all business-mode.

"There's been another one," Dean told him as they went to get something out of their bags. "Some guy just hung himself in his room."

"Yeah. I saw," Sam said darkly.

"We've _gotta_ figure this out, and fast," Dean stated. "What'd you find out about Granny?"

"You're bossy," Sam grumbled.

Caught off-guard by this, both Dean and Liz looked around in surprise. "What?"

"You're bossy," Sam repeated, slumping in the chair with a lopsided smile. "And short." And he laughed sloppily.

The Winchester twins stared at their little brother, confused. "Are you drunk?"

Sam nodded, his eyes unfocused. "Yeah. So? Stupid."

Exchanging a worried look, Dean looked around and saw several empty bottles. "Dude, what are you thinking? We're working a case," he protested while Liz let out a mild curse of disgust…their brother had just about drank _every_ bottle of alcohol in the room!

Sam clearly didn't care right now. "That guy who hung himself," he mumbled tearfully while staring into space. "I couldn't save him."

Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing, and neither could Liz. "What are you talking about? You didn't know…you couldn't have done anything."

Sam shifted his glazed gaze to his siblings. "That's an excuse, Dean. I should have found a way to save him. I should have saved Ava too."

Liz groaned while Dean approached their brother. "Yeah, well, you can't save everyone, even you said that."

Angrily, Sam slammed the table, making them jump. "No, Dean, you and Liz don't understand, all right?" he snapped. "The more people I save, the more I can change!"

"Change what?" Liz asked.

Sam leaned forward, putting his hands on his chest. "My destiny, Dean! Liz!"

Dean decided that it was the alcohol talking. "All right. Time for bed," he said. "Come on, Sasquatch." He leaned over and hauled Sam up by the shoulders with Liz's help. "Come on."

"I need you both to watch out for me," Sam mumbled.

Both Dean and Liz nodded, focusing on keeping their brother on his feet long enough to get him into the nearest bed. "Yeah. We always do."

"No! No, no, no." Sam grabbed their shoulders in a tight grip. "You both have to _watch out_ for me, all right? And if I ever turn into something that I'm not…" he then swallowed. "You have to kill me."

"Sam," Dean sighed dismissively while Liz winced at the words.

Sam shoved Dean to face him. "Dean! Dad told you and Liz to do it, you both have to."

"Yeah, well, Dad's an ass," Dean retorted, kicking himself for having told Sam about their promise and sighed when Sam frowned in confusion. "He never should have said anything, I mean, you don't do that, you don't, you don't lay that kind of crap on your kids."

"Yeah," Liz agreed, "he shouldn't have done it."

"No. He was right to say it!" Sam protested. "Who knows what I might become? Even now, everyone around me dies!"

Dean sighed. "Yeah, well, I'm not dying, okay?" he snapped. "Neither is Liz, and neither are you. Come on. Sam." He and Liz then pushed Sam onto the bed, but he stayed seated, reaching up and clutching Dean and Liz's jackets; the twins instinctively curled their right hands into the fabric of their brother's shoulder.

"No, please!" Sam pleaded. "Dean, Liz, you're the only ones who can do it. Promise."

Now Dean was getting scared, flashbacking to their dad's request and Liz cringed. "Don't ask that of us."

Sam wouldn't let go. "Dean, Liz, please," he begged. "You both _have_ to promise me."

Dean and Liz exchanged a look, positive that they were going to regret this. "We promise."

Sam weakly smiled. "Thanks." He reached up and grabbed his siblings' faces with both hands. "Thank you."

Dean sighed and pulled away, Liz doing the same. "All right. Come on." They batted Sam's hands away and shoved him back on the bed; Sam fell back, and then turned over on his belly to plant his face in the pillow, hugging it with both arms. Dean rubbed a hand over his face while Liz sank onto the bed behind them, her face in her hands. _Now_ what were they going to do?

* * *

Leaving Liz to watch over Sam and get some rest, Dean went down to the antique, empty bar. Sherwin was behind the bar, and Dean sat down.

"Find any good antiques?" Sherwin asked.

Dean recalled the cover story. "Um, no!" he stammered. "No, I got distracted."

Sherwin held up a bottle. "Have a drink."

Dean nodded, deciding that he needed one. "Yeah, thanks." And Sherwin poured a drink into an empty glass. "So, poor guy, huh? Killing himself?" he asked, sipping his drink

Sherwin shrugged and sipped his own drink. "That kind of thing seems to be going around lately."

"Yeah, yeah, I heard about the other ones," Dean remarked. "It's almost like this hotel is cursed or something."

"Every hotel has its spilled blood," Sherwin agreed. "If people _only_ knew what's gone on in some of those rooms they've checked into."

"You know a lot about the place, don't you?" he asked.

Sherwin nodded. "Down to the last nail."

"I'd love to hear some stories," Dean requested.

Sherwin grimly chuckled. "Boy, you should never say that to an old man."

* * *

A few hours later, Sherwin led Dean up the wide staircase, showing him old framed photographs on the walls. "This is little miss Susan, and her mother Rose. Happier days."

"They're not happy now?" Dean asked.

Sherwin shrugged. "Well, would you be, leaving the only home you ever knew?"

"I don't know," Dean admitted wistfully. "I never really knew one."

"Well, this is Rose's home, been in the family over a century," Sherwin explained. "Used to be the family estate. And now she gets to live in some senior living graveyard, and they tear this place down."

"Yeah, that's too bad," Dean agreed as they started down the stairs. "I hear Rose isn't feeling well, either."

Sherwin nodded sadly. "No, she isn't."

"What's wrong with her?" Dean asked.

Sherwin shrugged. "It's not my business to say."

"Oh." Dean looked at another photo. "Who's this?" he asked.

Sherwin picked up a yellowing photograph of a girl sitting on a chair with young black woman, who had a quincunx necklace. "That's Rose, when she was a little girl."

"Who's that with her?" Dean asked.

"That's her nanny, Marie," Sherwin responded. "She looked after Rose more than her own mother."

Dean frowned in concern as Sherwin replaced the photo. _'With that kind of necklace…I wonder.'_

* * *

The next morning, Sam was kneeling miserably in front of the toilet, his hair was hanging in his face, and Liz was hanging near the doorway; just then, Dean entered and grinned at the sight.

"How you feeling, Sammy?" Dean asked while Liz rolled her eyes and Sam groaned again. "I guess mixing whiskey and Jager wasn't such a gangbuster idea, was it?" he joked and then added hopefully. "I'll bet you don't remember a thing from last night, do you?"

Sam just groaned. "I can still taste the tequila." And both Liz and Dean smiled in relief. It looked like they were in the clear about the promise.

"You know, there's a really good hangover remedy," he said lightly, "it's a, it's a greasy pork sandwich served up in a dirty ashtray."

Sam heaved and Liz grimaced. "Oh, I _hate_ you."

"I know you do," Dean laughed while Liz retreated to the nearest bed. "Hey, turns out when Grandma Rose was a tyke she had a Creole nanny who wore a hoodoo necklace."

"So you think she taught Rose hoodoo?" Sam asked weakly.

Dean nodded as he went to the doorway. "Yes I do."

"All right," Sam grunted, standing painfully. "I think it's time we talked to Rose then." And he moved to the doorway.

Dean grimaced when he smelled his brother's breath; fully understanding why Liz had retreated. "Oh. You can brush your teeth first." And moved away while Sam sighed and went back into the bathroom.

* * *

It wasn't long before the Winchesters approached the door marked "PRIVATE" and knocked.

"Hello? Susan?" Sam called out while both Liz and Dean looked around furtively. "Clear?"

Dean nodded. "Mm-hmm." And Sam knelt before the door and picked the lock.

* * *

The Winchesters entered the creepy doll room and went to the door in the back; it was open, and they went through to find a dimly lit staircase. They crept upstairs and to the end of another hallway, into a small room whose door was ajar. Rose was seated in a wheelchair facing the rainy window, her back to them, and they approached cautiously.

"Mrs. Thompson? Mrs. Thompson?" Sam asked as he moved around so that he could see her, and she was trembling, staring at nothing. "Rose? Hi, Mrs. Thompson, we're not here to hurt you, it's okay-" she didn't respond, and she just trembled harder. "Rose?" realizing what was going on, he quietly whispered to his siblings, who were standing nearby. "Dean. Liz." He drew them over to the side. "This woman's had a stroke."

"Oh my," Liz whispered, putting a hand to her mouth.

Dean frowned, realizing that they now had a new problem. "Yeah, but hoodoo's hands-on, I mean, you've got to mix herbs, and chant, and build an altar."

"Yeah. So it can't be Rose," Sam agreed. "Hey, maybe it's not even hoodoo."

Dean thought about it. "Or she could be faking."

"Strokes aren't _that_ easy to fake," Liz pointed out.

Sam agreed with Liz. "Yeah, what are you gonna do, poke her with a stick?" and frowned when Dean nodded. "Dude! You're _not_ gonna poke her with a stick!"

Just then, Susan entered and gasped when she saw them. "What the hell?! What are you doing in here?"

"Oh, we just wanted to talk to Rose…"

"Well, the door was open…"

"Look at her, she is scared out of her wits," Susan snapped as she went over to her trembling mother. "I want you out of my hotel in two minutes or I'm calling the cops." And the guilty Winchesters left without hesitation.

* * *

Less than an hour later, the Impala rumbled out of the hotel parking lot.

* * *

Back in the hotel, Tyler and Maggie were playing jacks.

"Your turn," Maggie said, handing Tyler the ball. "Eightsies." And Tyler giggled as she bounced the ball and tried to pick up all the jacks.

Susan walked through the lobby and looked up at them. "Have you started packing yet?" she asked.

Tyler shook her head. "No."

Susan was surprised. "Why not?"

"I don't wanna move," Tyler protested.

Susan sighed, not liking it either. "Yes, I know, but we have to."

Tyler pouted. "But Maggie says we're not allowed to move."

Maggie nodded. "Yeah."

"Tyler, enough," Susan snapped, having hand enough. "Maggie is imaginary. You're too old to have an imaginary friend and I am done pretending." And she walked away.

Maggie glared after the woman while Tyler continued pouting. "I don't like her," she said with a sinister tone.

* * *

A/N: Maggie isn't real? What the _heck_ is going on?! I'll let you all ponder that for the next week. "Smiles evilly." R &R everyone!


	4. Chapter 4: A KILLER GHOST

Supernatural: Playthings

A/N: Here's the next chapter, folks, not big on the talking today.

Read, review, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from _Supernatural_ or _Criminal Minds_ ; I just own the characters that I happen to create.

* * *

 **CHAPTER FOUR: A KILLER GHOST**

" _She hath killed her beasts; she hath mingled her wine; she hath also furnished her table_ _."_

 _Proverbs 9: 2_

Later that same day, Susan walked outside and placed a box in the trunk of a small red car parked outside; Sherwin pulled up in a red pickup truck.

"I can lug those boxes for you," he offered.

Susan smiled at him. "I got it, Sherwin, thanks."

Sherwin nodded. "Okay then. See you later." And he drove off.

* * *

Still refusing to pack up, Tyler wind up a toy and watched it go back and forth; meanwhile, the miniature swing-set beside her started moving on its own, and she stared at it, at first with surprise and then it seemed as if she was going into a trance…again.

* * *

A creepy wind began blowing, and Susan stared as the full-sized swing-set also began moving on its own. She approached the playground cautiously; all the play-sets were moving, and the car started behind her. She laid a hand on the teeter-totter to stop it.

Everything started moving faster, and suddenly the car revved its engine and came straight at her; at the last moment Sam appeared, tackling her out of the way, and the car collided with a tree instead.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I think so," Susan gasped.

Both Dean and Liz ran up. "Come on, come on. Let's get inside, let's go." And they helped her into the inn.

* * *

The Winchesters guided Susan into the bar and to a table.

"Whiskey."

"Sure," Sam agreed, going to get the requested drink. "I know the feeling."

"What the _hell_ happened out there?" Susan asked, trembling.

Dean and Liz exchanged a look. "You want the truth?"

Susan nodded. "Of course."

Dean sighed, wondering how to put this. "Well, at first we thought it was some sort of hoodoo curse, but that out there? That was _definitely_ a spirit."

Sam handed her a glass of whiskey. "Here."

Susan accepted the glass and stared at them, shocked. "You're insane."

Liz chuckled. "Yeah, it's been said."

"Look, I'm sorry, Susan," Sam told her. "We don't exactly have time to ease you into this, but we need to know when your mother had the stroke."

Susan frowned. "What does that have to do with any-?"

"Just answer the question," Sam requested.

Susan shrugged. "About a month ago."

Sam quickly did the math. "Right before the killings began." He then looked at his siblings. "See? So what if Rose was working hoodoo, but not to hurt anyone. To protect them."

Dean nodded, realizing that he was right. "She was using the five spot urns to ward off the spirit."

"Right, until she had a stroke and she couldn't anymore," Liz added.

Susan looked between them, confused. "I don't believe this."

Dean sighed. "Listen, sister, that car didn't try to run you down by itself, okay? I mean, I guess it did, technically, but, but the spirit can – forget it."

"Look, believe what you want," Sam interrupted. "But the fact is you and your family are in danger, all right? So you need to clear everybody out of here: your employees, your mother, your daughters, everyone."

"Um, I only have one daughter," Susan said, correcting him.

Sam blinked. "One?"

Dean and Liz exchanged a confused look. Hadn't they seen two girls running around when they first checked in? "I thought Tyler had a sister named Maggie."

Susan shook her head. "Maggie's imaginary."

Sam didn't like where this was going. "Where's Tyler?"

* * *

Up in the attic, Maggie was standing in front of a terrified Rose.

"She's going to stay here with me," Maggie told her, referring to Tyler. "And you can't stop me. There's nothing you can do about it." And Rose whimpered, wishing that she could still talk.

Tyler entered the room. "Maggie, don't! You're not supposed to bother grandma," she protested.

Maggie smiled. "I know. Come on. Let's play."

"Can we have a tea party?" Tyler asked, excited.

Maggie nodded. "We can have lots of tea parties," she agreed as they left the room and Rose. "Forever and ever and ever."

* * *

A while later, Susan led the Winchesters up to the playroom.

"Tyler!"

They went into the room and made a horrible discovery; the floor was littered with broken dolls, and Susan started to panic.

"Oh my god. Tyler. Tyler! She's not here!"

"Susan. Tell us what you know about Maggie," Sam requested.

Susan thought for a moment. "Uh, not much," she admitted. "Um, Tyler's been talking about her since Mom got sick."

Sam nodded, it was a start. "Okay, did you ever know anyone by that name?"

Susan shook her head. "Uh, no…"

"Think, think, I mean, somebody that could have lived here, might have passed away?" Dean asked.

"Oh my god," Susan gasped, remembering. "My mom. My mom had a sister named Margaret. She barely spoke about her."

"Did Margaret happen to die here when she was a kid?" Liz asked.

Susan nodded. "She drowned in the pool."

"Come on," said Dean.

"Wait," Sam said, getting an idea, and they looked at him. "You three go on, I'm going to check on Rose."

Liz frowned. "Why?"

"I'll tell you later," Sam promised and hurried for the stairs, leaving them confused.

* * *

Meanwhile, Maggie and Tyler were hanging on the ledge above the pool.

"I don't like it up here," Tyler whimpered. "I'm scared."

"It's okay," Maggie said reassuringly. "All you have to do is jump."

Tyler shook her head. "I can't swim."

"I know. But it won't hurt. I promise," Maggie promised. "And then we can be together forever. And no one will bother us."

Tyler didn't look convinced. "Why don't you just come with me and mommy?"

Maggie sighed, wishing that she could. "Because I can't leave here. And you can't leave me. _Please_. I don't want to be alone."

* * *

Sam entered the attic and went over to Rose, who was fully aware of what was going on, but couldn't do anything about it.

"Rose," he said softly, focusing on his empathic ability, which had been tracking a lot of different emotions that he couldn't make of until now. "I know that you can hear me, and I'm sure that you know that your sister, Maggie, is going to kill your granddaughter, Tyler. Please, _please_ try and call out to your sister with your mind, Rose, please try."

Rose moved her eyes to look at him and then looked away; Sam could sense that she was _trying_ to send out a message on a mental level.

* * *

Outside, Susan, Liz, and Dean ran through the gardens to the pool house; they reached the door and pounded on it, but it was locked tight, and both Liz and Dean started pounding at the glass to break it.

"Tyler!" Susan cried.

Tyler heard her through the glass and she turned her head slightly. _`"Mommy!"`_

Maggie grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward; she fell into the pool with a scream.

"No!" Susan screamed.

"Is there another entrance?" Dean asked.

Susan nodded, terrified. "Around back."

"All right, let's go," Dean said and nodded to Liz. "Keep working."

As they ran around the building, Liz continued to pound at the door; she looked back and saw a large potted plant. She pulled the plant out, picked up the heavy pot, and started pounding the door with it.

* * *

Inside, Tyler floundered in the water as Maggie held her head down.

* * *

Dean approached the back door and held Susan aside. "Stand back."

He front-kicked the door, twice, but it hardly budged. "Son of a bitch!"

* * *

As Maggie continued holding Tyler's head under the water, a wavering voice called her from above.

 _`"Margaret. Margaret!"`_

Hearing the voice, Maggie looked up for a moment and then disappeared.

* * *

Liz _finally_ broke through the glass and wriggled through the opening; without hesitation, she leap over the railing and into the pool. She pushed past the plastic covering the pool to reach Tyler, lifting her in her arms, and she was unconscious.

* * *

Dean broke through the back door and he and Susan rushed in to meet Liz as she exited the pool. After a tense moment, Tyler coughed and woke up.

"Thank god!" Susan gasped, taking her wet daughter into her arms.

"Mommy!" Tyler cried.

"Yeah, baby, I'm here," Susan wept.

"Tyler, do you see Maggie anywhere?" Liz asked as Dean helped her out of the pool.

Tyler shook her head, clinging to her mom. "No, she's gone. Mommy."

* * *

Back in the attic, Sam stepped back and watched as Maggie appeared and approached Rose, who had determination in her eyes and they spoke with their minds.

"You'd really do that for me?" Maggie asked, listening to her sister for the first time in years. "Yes. If you did, I'd let them go. But I don't understand. You kept me away for so long. I thought you didn't love me anymore." She listened again and then smiled. "Okay. Little sister."

She then looked at Sam gratefully before stepping next to Rose and gently touched her aged face with tenderness and warmth she'd hadn't felt in years. In response, Rose shut her eyes and let out a peaceful sigh of surrender.

* * *

Susan held Tyler close to her as they went up towards Rose's room.

"Don't worry, honey," she promised, "we're leaving in two minutes, we've just got to get Grandma."

Dean looked at Liz, who was still wet from her dive into the pool. "I don't get it, did Maggie just stop?"

Liz shrugged. "Seems like it."

"Well, where the _hell_ did she go?" Dean wondered, and at that moment Sam came down the stairs with a sad expression on his face, which stopped Susan and Tyler. "Sam?"

Sam didn't answer right away and looked at Susan sadly. "I'm sorry, it's Rose."

Susan's eyes went wide as she let Tyler go and ran up the stairs, shoving past Sam; moments later, Susan screamed, and the Winchester twins ran up the stairs next, while Sam remained with Tyler and gently told her what'd happen.

* * *

Dean and Liz ran into the room and found Rose slumped in her wheelchair, dead. Now they knew why Maggie had left, Rose had allowed herself to die in order to be with her sister, doing this to protect both her daughter and her granddaughter, and was no longer in pain.

* * *

A/N: I admit that I teared up when I wrote this, and even now I'm tearing up since I have sisters of my own and I would never forgive myself if anything happen to them.

R&R everyone!


	5. Chapter 5: TOGETHER FOREVER

Supernatural: Playthings

A/N: Here's the final chapter, folks! I've had a frazzling morning, but hopefully the rest of the day will go better.

Read, review and enjoy, everyone!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from _Supernatural_ or _Criminal Minds_ ; I just own the characters that I happen to create.

* * *

 **CHAPTER FIVE: TOGETHER FOREVER**

" _They are all gone aside, they are_ _all_ _together become filthy:_ _there is none_ _that doeth good, no, not one_ _."_

 _Psalms 14: 3_

A few hours later, the paramedics were taking away Rose's body and Susan was standing on the front porch with the Winchesters.

"Paramedics said it was another stroke," Susan told them. "Do you think Margaret could have had something to do with it?"

Dean shrugged. "We don't know," he lied, having decided to not tell the truth.

"But it's possible, yeah," Sam agreed. "Susan, I'm sorry," he added.

Susan sadly smiled. "You have nothing to apologize for. You've given me everything." She then looked at Tyler as she came out. "Ready to go, kiddo?"

Tyler nodded, now wearing normal clothes. "Yeah."

"Now Tyler, you're sure Maggie's not around anymore?" Dean asked.

"I'm sure," Tyler confirmed. "I'd see her."

"I guess whatever's going on must be over," Liz agreed.

Sam held the taxi door for Susan and Tyler. "You two take care of yourselves, all right?"

Before getting in the taxi, Susan turned and gave Sam a full-body hug while Dean smirked. "Thank you. All of you." She then got into the taxi and Sam shut the door behind her.

"Think you could have hooked up some MILF action there, bud?" Dean teased and winced when Liz hit his arm and Sam glared. "I'm serious, I think she liked you."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's all she needs."

Dean shrugged as they headed for the Impala. "Well, you saved the mom, you saved the girl. Not a bad day. 'course you know, I could have saved them myself, but I didn't want you to feel useless."

Sam scoffed. "All right, I appreciate it."

"Feels good getting back in the saddle, doesn't it?" Dean asked, grinning.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, it does. But it doesn't change what we talked about last night, Dean." And Liz winced; so much for Sam not remembering.

Dean mentally groaned. "We talked about a lot of things last night."

Sam looked at them seriously. "You know what I mean."

"You were _wasted_ ," Dean protested.

"But you and Liz weren't," Sam pointed out. "And you both promised."

They got into the car; Sam was in a full-on brood, Liz was in the backseat, worried, and Dean flickered his eyes towards Sam, also worried. They then pulled away from the inn.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the upstairs bedroom, Maggie and Rose, who was now a young girl again, were skipping rope, counting, and laughing.

* * *

Quantico, Virginia

FBI headquarters, BAU division…

"There's a series of unexplained robberies and apparent suicides in Milwaukee, Wisconsin," Jennifer Jareau told the team once they were all seated in the conference room, and clicked on the screen, which had several pictures on it.

"Apparent suicides?" Emily repeated, her eyebrows were raised.

"That's what the police are calling the way that the robbers die shortly after committing the robberies themselves," JJ explained, "and there's only been one fatality so far, too. The night guard at a local jewelry store was killed last night during a robbery conducted by one of the employees."

Gideon opened the folder handed to him and frowned at the contents. "Each of the robbers have been employees at each location? And they've all committed suicide after hiding the items they've stolen?"

"According to the police, yes," JJ confirmed. "And they sent us a video recording of the jewelry store robbery that was taken by the security cameras that night." And she clicked the remote, changing the screen to a black/white display that showed a brown-haired woman in her mid-forties, walking into the store and ransacking the display cases before looking up at the camera for a moment-

"Pause that," Hotch ordered and JJ did, freezing the image of the woman's eyes glowing silver. "Are her eyes-?"

"They're glowing silver," Morgan finished, frowning. "I've seen this before…it happen in the security footage from St. Louis when the Winchesters were down there helping one of Sam's friends prove her brother innocent."

"Couldn't that just be camera flash?" Emily asked.

Penelope shook her head. "No, I've already double-checked and triple-checked the footage, that's real."

"Which means, we're dealing with a shape-shifter," Reid concluded in an almost snappish manner that wasn't like him, and the team noticed.

Hotch knew that there was a certain phone call he would have to make, for if this _was_ something supernatural, then they would need the help of those who've dealt with this sort of stuff for a living. "Garcia, locate the Winchesters, we're going to need their help on this one."

"I'll get on it right away," Penelope confirmed, starting a search on her laptop as she stood up.

"Team, get your stuff together," Hotch ordered, "we leave within the hour." And they all left the room to get ready for the new case.

* * *

The Winchesters will still driving through Connecticut when Sam's cell-phone rang, pulling him out of his mope that he'd been in for the last few hours, and he answered it.

"Hello?"

 _`"Sam? This is Aaron Hotchner and we have a case that we need your help on…"`_

* * *

Quantico, Virginia

FBI headquarters…

A man, with dark hair and wearing a black business suit and was named Reidy, walked through the halls of the building and knocked on an open doorway before entering the room beyond. "Victor, we've got a hit."

Victor Henriksen looked up from the paperwork he was working on. "Tell me."

"Aaron Hotchner had his computer tech, Penelope Garcia, locate the Winchesters thirty minutes ago, and Hotchner called the cell-phone of Sam Winchester right before he left with his team for a case in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, and it looks like he asked the Winchesters to meet them there."

Henriksen nodded, hiding that excitement he was feeling; the last time he'd came close to finding the Winchesters, was when they were still in Maryland, but had lost them after that, and now he had a chance to bring them in. _'Hotchner and his team won't like me doing this, but orders are orders.'_

"Get our people together," Henriksen ordered. "We leave within the hour."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Provo, UT

Provo Towne Center Mall, Cinemark 16…

Ricky and Hannah were taking out two of the trash bins; it was a weekday, and it was also slow, so there wasn't that much for them to put into the compacter; they were quietly talking about the recurring dream and their repeated encounters with the strange and creepy man that kept popping up whenever they were alone at either the UVSC Library, various parts of the BYU campus, or at the theater.

"I'm half tempted to tell dad about that creepy man," Hannah told her twin as he locked the door on the compacter and she pushed the green button. "I mean…he's creeping me out big time."

Ricky sighed. "I know, but until he says or does something _other_ than stare at us, I don't think we should take any chances, sis."

"I guess," Hannah admitted reluctantly. "But even so…this guy _screams_ stalker even if his emotions don't; I can't-" she took a breath "I can't even get a _fix_ on them."

"How so?" Ricky asked, fully aware of the strange emotions that the infected people had, and how Liz described the offish emotions of a person possessed by a demon. "Is he a demon?"

Hannah shook her head. "No…at least I don't _think_ so. I – I can't explain it." She then stiffened, sensing something. "Ricky-"

"I see him," said Ricky, positioning himself in front of his twin as she turned; sure enough, the strange man was standing a few feet away and was staring at them…again. "Okay, man, just _who_ are you and _why_ are you stalking us?"

The man _actually_ chuckled, which surprised the twins, especially Hannah, who could tell that his emotions _didn't_ match his actions. "I'm hardly stalking you, Richard, or you, Hannah."

"Who are you?" Hannah asked cautiously. "You – you don't feel like a demon or a human."

"I'm not either, and it doesn't matter who I am, Hannah," the man said honestly, which surprised them further. "And those aren't just dreams that you both are having."

Ricky frowned. "We already know that," he stated. "We've had visions before, and we know that what we see could very well come to pass, but they don't always do."

"Maybe not in that _Doctor Who_ show that you watch," the man remarked. "But I can assure you both that the vision that you both are having concerning Sam Winchester…it _will_ come to pass, and the world will end."

"No," Hannah protested, stepping forward so that she was standing next to her twin. "Sam is a good person, and the only way he would do that if he's possessed by a demon…even then, both Dean and Liz won't let that happen, _or_ let the world end for only God knows the time and day when that will happen."

The man gave them a sad smile, which didn't match his emotions in the slightest. "There was a time when that was true, Hannah, but not anymore. However, I want you both to consider this…will _either_ of you willingly give up your own happiness, and even your lives to save someone in order to prevent the world from ending?"

Before either twin could respond, the man was suddenly gone, and they both could hear the faint sound of wings flapping. Had they just talked with an _angel_?

* * *

A/N: Hmm, given you all a lot to think about. Haven't I? R&R everyone!


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